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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27938827">The Other Vigilante</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl'>foggys_cupcake_girl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Daredevil (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Violence, Could Be Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Violence, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Frank Castle, Shock, They all need hugs, What-If, not really Matt Murdock friendly, or at least it SHOULD HAVE BEEN dammit, some OT3 happening if you squint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:21:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,375</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27938827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the attack on the Bulletin, Foggy goes to Karen's apartment seeking...comfort, maybe, or just the knowledge that she's safe. He's not expecting to get there and find that someone else had the same idea.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Frank Castle &amp; Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Frank Castle &amp; Franklin "Foggy" Nelson &amp; Karen Page, Frank Castle/Karen Page, Franklin "Foggy" Nelson &amp; Karen Page</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Other Vigilante</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is an AU in S3 wherein Foggy is not living with Marci and Frank Castle came to Karen's aid when Bullseye targeted her. Because I was re-watching those midseason episodes of S3 and thought, what if?</p><p>This could either be read as platonic or as the beginnings of an OT3, it's entirely up to you. ;)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Foggy stumbles through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen feeling like his body has been encased in Novocain-coated cotton balls ever since he was taken away from the wreckage of the <em> Bulletin. </em> He’s…fine, he supposes, physically. Nothing actually wrong with him. The nurse at hospital gave him a 0.25mg dose of Xanax and told him how brave he was, told him <em> it’s okay, you’re okay, you made it out and you don’t need to feel guilty about that. </em></p><p>He doesn’t feel guilty. He feels <em> empty </em>. Terror threatens to break through, but stays just barely there, simmering under the surface; he’d like to blame it on the drug but he knows the dose was too low to completely numb him like this. He remembers hearing gunfire and shudders. There were multiple shooters. More than one vigilante. He remembers that. He knows there’s no way Matt was under that costume—</p><p>He thinks he might have passed out—</p><p>He thinks he heard Matt’s voice, or <em> some </em> familiar voice—</p><p>The hospital wanted to keep him overnight for observation. He just laughed at the idea. What was wrong, he knew, could not be fixed by anything they had in their medication closet. No amount of antianxiety drugs would make him feel safe again.</p><p>He means to go home. He really does. But when he looks at his phone and sees three texts from Karen, he impulsively decides to go to her place. At least, Foggy reasons with another grim laugh, they can get drunk and feel vulnerable together.</p><p>Karen’s doorman knows to let him up. He bypasses the elevator completely, not wanting to put his survival in the hands of a 3x3 electric-operated box, and staggers down the hall, exhausted and numb and empty, clinging to the thought that if he can just get to Karen, <em> something </em> will be okay, at least.</p><p>Karen opens the door before he knocks. “My guest saw you outside,” she says bracingly. Then she looks at him, really looks at him. “Foggy. <em> Shit. </em> Are you okay?”</p><p>He cocks his head at her. “You’re not seriously asking me that?”</p><p>She manages a tiny smile and waves him in. “Don’t freak out,” she warns him, and he almost laughs again because he’s not sure his body even remembers <em> how </em> to freak out.</p><p>Then he sees her “guest” and realizes why she said that.</p><p>The Punisher—all six feet of him, all of his two hundred pounds of pure muscle—is sitting on Karen’s couch, holding a cup of coffee in his giant hands, wearing a New York Giants sweatshirt, looking for all the world like an anxious boyfriend who just realized…</p><p>…who just realized his girlfriend survived a shootout at her workplace.</p><p>Oh.</p><p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p><p>Foggy almost wants to cry. He lost Matt to Elektra, he’s lost Karen to Frank Castle. What the <em> fuck, </em> universe. Now Fate is just kicking him when he’s down.</p><p>Castle puts down his coffee cup and comes rushing over and for a moment Foggy thinks he might as well pray the rosary like he used to hear Matt doing because honestly this is <em> for sure </em> the end. Instead he hears Karen saying softly, “No, no, he’s okay,” and he thinks she’s reassuring him until he hears her add, “Frank, he’s okay. He won’t hurt me. Or you.”</p><p>“I <em> know that, </em> Karen,” Castle says almost impatiently, “but fuck, <em> look </em> at him.”</p><p>(He must really look like shit, Foggy reflects, if even the Punisher, the reigning King Of You Should See The Other Guy, thinks he’s a wreck.)</p><p>He feels a hand cup his jaw, feels his face turned up. “’M fine,” he murmurs unconvincingly. “Just wanted to make sure Karen was okay after…everything.”</p><p>Behind him, Karen puts a thin hand on his lower back. “Frank wanted the same thing,” she tells him gently. “He’s not going to hurt us, Foggy. He’s here to—”</p><p>“—protect you,” Foggy finishes hollowly.</p><p>Karen has Castle. Which means Karen is <em> safe. </em> Foggy should go. He’s not needed here. And he’s definitely not wanted, if they’re—if Castle and Karen are really—</p><p>It’s stupid and childish. But he wishes Matt would come protect him, the way Castle is so eager to protect Karen. But he wouldn’t, would he? Even if he wasn’t too busy being a shadowy vigilante, a martyred asshole for the cause of Hell’s Kitchen. Even then, even when he was known to be alive, Matt protected Elektra and Karen, but not him. Matt wouldn’t even stay alive for him. Matt would die for Hell’s Kitchen, but not for Foggy.</p><p>An arm loops his shoulders, big and warm and solid, and he thinks wildly <em> no, no don’t, please don’t hurt me I’ll go, </em> but when he’s pulled against the tree-trunk body of Frank Castle it’s surprisingly gentle. “I’ve got you,” Castle rumbles when Foggy starts and instinctively tries to pull away. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”</p><p><em> I’m not okay. </em> He feels it. Wants to say it. But oh, God. He’s so tired. It’s easier, he thinks as his eyes fall closed, his face dropping into Castle’s neck, to just let whatever’s happening, happen.</p><p>Frank Castle smells like guns and coffee and it’s surprisingly not too bad a combination. He’s warm, his body radiating heat through that harmless Giants hoodie, impossibly warm, <em> open fireplace </em> warm, and being held by him feels like being wrapped in a giant heating pad. It’s all-encompassing, this hug, and Foggy knows realistically there’s only a scant few inches of height between them but he feels small. Like a fragile, needy thing that must be protected. Like he’s <em> valued. </em> Like someone besides his parents wants him, <em> needs </em> him to be okay.</p><p>“I’ve got you,” Frank repeats, and then he lets go with one arm, and Foggy mewls softly at the loss before he smells Karen’s perfume, feels her hair tickle his face and realizes Frank is holding them both. “I’ve got you,” he hums, and Foggy opens his eyes to see that he’s cradling the back of Karen’s head in one of his big hands, stroking the base of her neck with his thumb. His other hand makes rhythmic circles on Foggy’s back. He’s so strong, but his touch is so <em> gentle </em> and it’s that, more than anything else, that breaks Foggy completely.</p><p>His tears are silent, soaking through that ridiculous football hoodie without him making a single sound, not even a hitching breath. He looks and sees that Karen’s eyes are red; she reaches out, her fingers just barely brushing his shoulder before her hand finds its place on Frank’s chest, over his heart. <em> I’m sorry, </em> she mouths, and Foggy almost says something but is shocked to the core, instead, when Frank kisses her forehead…</p><p>…and then turns his head and does the same to Foggy. It’s a gentle kiss, just a bare brush of a closed mouth against the temple of his head. Frank’s lips are chapped. A little rough, but full and warm, just like the rest of him.</p><p>“It’s okay,” he says firmly, wrapping his arms a little more firmly around Karen and Foggy as he pulls them both in close, abandoning the petting gestures in favor of clasping them protectively to his chest. “I’ve got you. No one’s gonna fuck with you, <em> either </em> of you, again. Not while I’m here.”</p><p>“We know,” Karen murmurs.</p><p>At the same time Foggy says, “Thank you.”</p><p>It’s so small. Two tiny words that can’t encompass the enormity of what Frank is doing right now. But it’s something, and Foggy lets his eyes fall closed, lets the remaining tension drain from his body as those rough, but so incredibly gentle, lips press against his forehead again.</p><p>He doesn’t know if this is temporary. He doesn’t think so, somehow. Not with what’s happening right now—Fisk, the fake Daredevil, the protests, Matt somehow coming back from the dead. There’s too much to protect them from. Frank, he knows, might be rough around the edges but he’s so loyal to those he loves that he’s willing to kill for them after they’re already gone. He won’t leave. Not now.</p><p>Foggy isn’t sure exactly what this is, but it’s a new beginning, or at least it feels like one, and for now, he thinks, that’s enough.</p>
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